


Kept Boy

by thatotherperv



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Orgasm Control, Suit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-17
Updated: 2007-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/pseuds/thatotherperv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander’s got a sugar daddy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kept Boy

**Author's Note:**

> a long time back (I think October) I saw a wallpaper by katekat1010 at fall_for_sx. it launched this whole fantasy about corporate spike and his kept houseboy, Xander. *cough* thanks muchly to katekat for customizing her fan art for me :D
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://katekat1010.livejournal.com)  
> by the lovely [](http://katekat1010.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://katekat1010.livejournal.com/)**katekat1010**

As soon as keys jingled in the lock, Xander felt the flow of his circulation redirect itself towards his cock.

Pavlov’s pooch had nothing on him.

Rising from the soft suede of the sofa, he hit mute on the television and padded across the plush white carpet, heading towards the foyer of the penthouse apartment. It was really nice carpet…then again, it was a really nice place. Swank, and not really his style, but you wouldn’t see him complaining. But back to his original point, the carpet. It was most definitely his style. It was the kind of carpet you just wanted to roll around on naked. Thick, soft knap. Xander was not ashamed to admit, he’d done exactly that. Once or twice….

The carpeting in his old place was the thin kind they used in public schools. It just took the chill off the concrete below and did nothing for the fact that it was…well…hard as concrete.

No comparison, really. People underestimated the importance of such things. Xander would go so far as to say that he’d sell his soul for this carpeting. He’d probably sell his soul for that couch, too. It was comfy, and there were no springs poking his delicate ass. And he hadn’t even gotten to the satellite linked up to that plasma-screen tv with digital recording. He could be equally persuaded to trade it in for the Cartier watch and the little Porsche boxster that hugged those curves like they were long lost friends….

And he hadn’t even counted the vacations yet. Fuck a rich guy, see the world.

Sure, it was kind of shallow, but what they didn’t tell you was that selling your soul wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as it sounded.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“Spike.” His grin was wide and genuine.

“Hello, luv.” He looked a little tired around the eyes tonight. Tough negotiation for that merger—lost a billion or two—or he’d had to make budget cuts. Put a few hundred families out of work.

Just another day at the office for the big guy. Xander could see that his own work day had just begun.

“Let me take that for you.”

Xander relieved Spike of his briefcase and set it aside. He twined his fingers into the tie that Spike had loosened—pink, because guys like Spike could wear that color and call it ‘salmon’—and tugged him closer for a hot hello kiss that said everything it was supposed to say.

Thought about you all day.  
Want you right now.  
I love it when you fuck me into the mattress.

Couldn’t press in too close—couldn’t risk wrinkling the sleek pinstripe suit that cost more than his life—so he had to say it all with his mouth. They sure as hell weren’t lies. He did love it. He did want it. He did think about it. But Xander understood what this was. It was unspoken, but he was no fool, and there was no such thing as a free ride.

See, Spike had a guy for everything. His executive chef made his dinner, his housekeeper swept his mess under the rug, his PA kissed his ass, his valet parked the beamer for him every night.

And Xander did this. They just weren’t so crass as to put him on the payroll.

Spike smiled and licked his lips when Xander pulled away. “Mmmm. What was that for, luv?”

Xander grinned in that boyish way guaranteed to make Spike hot. “Just because.”

“Just because, eh? Feeling generous?” Spike looked a little revived now. He teased Xander suggestively, tongue poking playfully between white, even teeth.

He was a really beautiful man.

“Yeah. You deserve it. C’mon, and I’ll show you what I was thinking about just before you came in.”

Xander led Spike into the living room and settled him in the wide armchair that matched the couch. Handed him a little scotch. The television was already set to Spike’s favorite program, closed captioned so that Spike could see what was going on without being bothered by the noise.

Not that he’d be paying attention to it anyway.

When Xander settled himself on his knees at Spike’s feet, he had Spike’s undivided attention. Those infamous eyes burned into Xander’s, and Xander didn’t miss the way his breath came quicker in his chest. Sometimes he wondered what would happen when the novelty wore off of this. This submission, this possession. The man was renowned for his short attention and his short temper.

Xander didn’t think it was like that between them. He was banking, literally, on his hunch that it wasn’t. Because for a man that the whole world knew as a cold, hard-hearted business shark, when he was with Xander, his blood ran hot and his hands were soft. Sometimes he said things that were….

Xander had no delusions that this was a fairytale love, or any kind of love at all, but…it was something. A symbiosis.

A small smile played over that sinful mouth. “I know you fancy the carpeting, pet, but there’s a perfectly good sofa. Christ knows I paid enough for the fact that you like the way it feels on your delicate arse.” The gentle teasing about price tags brought Xander back to his task.

“Very funny. I like it down here. Easy access.” Light fingers toyed up the pants leg along Spike’s inner thigh. Xander held those blue eyes and watched as they dilated a little further.

“’S that right?”

“Mm-hmmm.” His finger traced a slow teasing circle around the hard-on now ruining the clean lines of the slacks. Xander wet his lips and watched as Spike’s gaze focused sharply on his tongue. When he ‘accidentally’ brushed against the shaft, Spike shuddered and bit his lip, pressing his pelvis forward, but Xander’s finger evaded.

“Bloody hell, luv, you’re killing me here.”

Xander’s finger didn’t deviate from his pattern. “Am I? Do I stand to inherit a sizeable sum of money if you kick off from a stroke? Death by sexual prowess?”

Spike broke into a smile. “Cheek. Don’t kill the goose, now.”

“I dunno, I always wanted a golden egg. Or two. They’re shiny.”

Spike laughed expansively. It was a bit that never got old, it seemed. Xander only loved him for his money, har har. Catch our other shows at 9 eastern, every night this week! It diffused the tension of what they both knew.

When Xander’s hands reached decisively for Spike’s belt buckle, Spike’s eyes followed them there. The hush of the zipper was loud in the quiet apartment. No neighbors up here on the top floor. Xander’s hand closed around Spike’s cock with a rough twisting that made Spike’s head collapse onto the chair back, adam’s apple bobbing as he slouched lower in his seat, knees sprawling.

“Fuck _me_ , you have amazing hands.” He pushed up into the rhythm, fucking Xander’s hand, fingers gripping tight onto the armrests. He wore heavy gold rings. None on the finger that everybody checked when they met a man that was rich and handsome.

Blue eyes slitted open. His voice was rough now. “Take off your shirt.”

Xander pulled it over his head and looked back as Spike’s eyes combed over him. He had good musculature, heavy and thick where Spike would always be lean and hungry. Personal trainer. Tanning bed. Winter trips to tropical islands that might as well be deserted, for the right price.

When Xander took Spike in his mouth, sucking, pumping, eyes trained on Spike’s face that were artfully dark and soft and pleading, Spike slumped further…swore…let one desperate hand bury itself in Xander’s shaggy hair. Xander worked him for all he was worth, tongue quick, cheeks hollow, hand stroking and squeezing and teasing. Spike’s eyes rolled closed again and again, but he never looked away for long, and his hand was restless, petting through Xander’s locks. Caressing a stubble-roughened cheek. Smoothing over the curve of his delts.

Spike had told him once that he loved it when Xander looked “rough and ready and begging to be shagged.” So Xander stopped shaving before he was due to arrive home. It turned Spike on, he supposed, to pretend that Xander came from the school of hard knocks. That he’d rescued him. In reality, the worst thing that had ever happened to Xander was that his blue-collar parents, in their casually neglectful way, actually expected him to be a _grownup_ when he turned 18. No safety net.

A high school diploma didn’t buy what it used to. But his daddy never beat him, and he never got touched in his private places.

Spike, on the other hand, _had_ had a hard life, from what Xander gathered, so on nights like tonight, when his wealth weighed on him in ways that Xander would never understand, he sucked Spike’s cock with extra enthusiasm.

Xander suspected that he was the only one Spike showed that weariness to. It was a jungle out there, but there wasn’t any harm in showing weakness to the neighborhood monkey. Specially when that monkey was your love…monkey.

When Xander took a deep breath through his nose and then swallowed, Spike bucked forward at the hips, panting. His hand twisted in Xander’s hair. “Aww, fuck, luv. You’re beautiful like that.” He moaned as Xander’s throat convulsed around him, voice rough. “You love it, don’t you? Love sucking Daddy’s big cock.”

…That was a new one. And a little weird, but he’d roll with it.

Xander pulled away with a final lick, stroking Spike’s shaft. “God, Daddy, I need it. I need you to fuck me. I’ve been such a good boy. Please?” Playing up the puppy eyes, he bent forward and sucked at the spot just above Spike’s hipbone. Spike’s pelvis rocked upwards reflexively with a growl.

Xander always thought dirty talk sounded ridiculous in his American accent, but however he thought the words sounded, they seemed to really do it for Spike. “Anything for my boy. Climb up here on Daddy’s lap.”

Xander shucked his pants and crawled onto the armchair over Spike, letting greedy hands pinch and squeeze and smack lightly at his rear, playing up the lust that Spike’s presumption triggered as he impaled himself. No condom for the guy calling the shots, not anymore. Spike was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar and he didn’t fuck around. Not if he said he was faithful.

Spike moaned and clutched his hips as Xander sank down easily around him. “You were ready for me, you naughty boy.”

Xander flashed a smile as he wiggled, clenching around Spike’s cock. He bit his lip. “Yeah, Daddy. I was lonely.”

There was sudden power in Spike’s body as he vaulted forward from his reclining position, hand fisting in Xander’s hair to draw his head back tightly at an angle, mouth possessing Xander’s throat with teeth and tongue. Xander let out a very real moan of desire, reflexively rocking himself on Spike’s cock.

Fuck. Spike’s voice was quiet and dangerous, and Xander began to rock harder in his lap.

“Were you thinking about me as you fucked yourself open, pet? Riding your fingers like a bad boy, touching what’s mine? Did you come?”

Spike was fucking up into him now, hands steadying Xander’s hips as he drilled against his prostate, silk voice breathless and rough with raw want. Lust from their current game, and lust from imagining Xander so desperate for him in his absence. Xander didn’t question when he had lost control of the fuck—Spike was unpredictable. Sometimes he wanted Xander to play the naughty seducer to the end, and sometimes—

Xander held on for dear life. “God yeah. Came so hard.”

The flat of Spike’s palm came cracking down on Xander’s ass _hard_ , and Xander’s body jerked as he shouted in surprise. His stomach muscles quivered as Spike thrust him down onto his cock harder and faster, feeling his orgasm rush up towards him like pavement at the end of a long nosedive. Spike’s hand cracked down on his ass again, and Xander’s body seized up hard, hand fisting desperately onto the lapel of Spike’s expensive suit, crumpling the jacket and the raw silk shirt beneath. When Spike’s hand squeezed off the exit point for Xander’s load at the base of his cock and ceased all motion, it _hurt_ and Xander’s hips spasmed forward, trying desperately to complete the act.

When Xander finally managed to blink back the wetness from his eyes, body still strung tight and achy, he found Spike staring at him calmly, with that renowned boardroom chill.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you come without him.”

Xander was breathing hard, teetering on the brink between fathomless rage, the need to beg, and…being so fucking turned on, he _tingled_. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was nod, ribs still racing for oxygen.

“There’s a boy. Daddy knows you’re sorry. See that it doesn’t happen again.”

Spike smiled at him then, the corners of his mouth tipping up benevolently, and he nudged Xander’s mouth down to his own for a soft kiss as he began to move again, this time with excruciating care. So fucking slowly, cock scraping over Xander’s prostate. Xander’s body sang with oversensitivity—the only thing preventing him from disobeying Spike’s order was the hand still clamped down on his cock. Spike’s head was relaxed back against the chair back again, eyes heavy and smug as Xander struggled for a grasp.

“Hands behind your back, pet.”

Another frission of lust ran through him, and his cock throbbed—God, ow, fuck that was hot—as he complied, clamping his own hands together behind his back so that Spike alone supported his balance and movement. It pushed his chest forward, and Xander _had_ to squeeze his eyes shut when Spike’s tongue snaked out to toy at his nipple lazily. It wasn’t nearly enough, and it was still way too much…worse when Xander had to look into those possessive eyes.

“Look at me, Xander.”

He let out a shaky curse and opened his eyes, locking them onto Spike’s smirking face.

“Good boy. Don’t come.”

When Spike let off on his choke-hold on Xander’s cock, Xander’s frame rocked with a shudder, hands clenching together hard on the next in-stroke. Spike fucked him slowly, _so_ slowly and shallow, head of his cock rubbing over Xander’s prostate at leisure.

“Spike… _please_ ….”

Spike’s nostrils flared. “No.” Incongruously rough hands gripped Xander’s hips and rocked them, helping him ride against Spike’s thrusts.

Xander’s arms strained against his imaginary bonds. When a finger stroked lightly up his cock, prostate firing under Spike’s attention, Xander was sure he was about to lose it. Eyes squeezing shut, he cried out and bit his lip desperately.

The only reason he didn’t come is because Spike stopped moving abruptly.

Sharp blue eyes were looking up at him, then Spike reached up and loosened his tie, freeing it from his collar and pulling it over his head.

When Spike slid the tie around Xander’s cock and hooked it under his balls before tightening it, Xander made an embarrassing whimpering sound. Just the idea made him flush hot. It was tight enough to delay him from coming a while, but not nearly tight enough to choke him off altogether.

Spike resumed his slow fuck. Xander didn’t even realize his eyes had drifted closed until he received a sharp tap on the chin.

Spike was watching him smugly. He reached out to twist Xander’s nipple, and Xander gasped as his thighs tightened to ride Spike’s cock a little harder.

“Pretty boy. All mine, too…aren’t you, luv? Love being Daddy’s fucktoy.”

Xander’s breath hitched, and he groaned when Spike once again slowed the pace of his hips forcibly.

“What would I do, do you think, if you tried to leave?” Spike’s eyes narrowed.

Xander panted as Spike’s head ground against his prostate. He shook his head. “You wouldn’t let me.”

Spike’s smile was small and chilly. “I wouldn’t, no…not easily. Why is that, pet?”

Xander’s whole body tightened with a shudder, arms straining. “Because…you own me.”

“I do, don’t I?” Xander cried out, convulsing when Spike’s hand caressed lightly over Xander’s sac…his cock. Light and gentle and unrelenting, hips still working that slow rhythm even though his jaw was clenching and his eyes practically glowed in the dimmed light of the living room. He looked like a very pretty Satan, and Xander swore he actually was as he just kept petting lightly along his shaft and stroking his prostate, building his orgasm up slowly for so long that Xander thought he would never come.

When the pleasure finally crested high enough to overcome the silk knotted around his cock, it was blinding and drawn out, and too insensible to notice Spike’s own guttural choke.

Xander slumped forward against Spike’s suit, half dead and all stupid. Spike’s body was lax under his, hands stroking Xander’s thighs and ass lazily.

“Sadistic bastard,” he muttered against Spike’s throat.

There was a hint of a smile in Spike’s voice. “What’s that, luv?”

“I thought you were never gonna let me come. Asshole.”

They shifted so that they could see one another, though Xander didn’t need the visual to predict the self-satisfied smirk. “You loved it.”

He leaned forward and they shared a series of lazy kisses. Xander had kinda loved it. Not that he would tell Spike that.

He winced and sat up to remove the tie before his cock fell off from lack of circulation. He regarded Spike’s suit.

“ _That’s_ going to be an awkward trip to the dry-cleaners.”

“Mmm. Which is why you’ll be the one that makes it.”

“What? No way!”

“Made the mess, pet, now it’s yours to clean up.”

“I _could_ argue that _you_ made the mess. Or made me make the mess. Or something.”

“ _Fine_. I’ll just send Wesley.”

They both snickered over that. Xander settled himself back against Spike’s shoulder. Suddenly he remembered something. “ _Daddy_?”

Spike gave a low, rumbling chuckle that shook a laugh out of Xander. He could swear that Spike was blushing. “Yeah. Hot though, wasn’it?”

“Yeah. Perv. Does this mean I get an allowance?”

Xander jolted indignantly at the swat he received on the butt. “You don’t need an allowance. Already spoiled rotten.”

He thought about smarting off to that, but it was true. And he was sleepy, relaxed under Spike’s roaming hands.

Those arms slid around him suddenly and held tight. Spike was quiet, just hugging him, for the space of several breaths, and it made Xander uneasy even before he spoke.

“Don’t know what I did before you, luv.” His voice was quiet and rough, and Xander blinked at the back of the chair at the unexpected confession. “Don’t know what I’d do without you. Love you, Xan.”

Xander’s chest felt tight…his throat, too. That had never been part of the deal. It was supposed to be a direct exchange of goods and services, not—He’d never expected….

Eventually Spike’s arms loosened and petted down his back. “I’m knackered, pet. Coming to bed now or going to watch some telly first?”

Xander sat up. Spike’s face was soft, hair a little messy from the sex. There were still circles under his eyes, but he looked content now. Happy. Xander had done that for him.

His heart squeezed again, unexpectedly.

“Yeah. Let’s turn in.”


End file.
